


Diagnosis Avoidance

by narcissablaxk



Category: Cobra Kai (Web Series), Karate Kid (Movies)
Genre: Allergic reaction, Comedy, Daniel as a Doctor, Doctor AU, Feelings Realization, First Date, First Kiss, First Meeting, M/M, Romance, lawrusso, meet cute, slightly cracky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 12:00:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25849210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narcissablaxk/pseuds/narcissablaxk
Summary: Johnny has an allergic reaction to some shrimp, and his doctor is, um...hot.Inspired by a Twitter post by @/riseofreylo: "forgot to tell you guys that when i was in the ER last month...they had me hooked up to a heart monitor and my heart rate SPIKED when this hot doctor walked in and he went "oh, i got you a little excited?""
Relationships: Daniel LaRusso/Johnny Lawrence
Comments: 25
Kudos: 337





	Diagnosis Avoidance

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to @Storyshark2005 for bringing that Twitter post to my attention and suggesting that it would work as a LawRusso story!

His date had been going well. She was tall, blonde, and hot, she was wearing a Chargers shirt, she grinned when he said he hated the Patriots. Everything was going perfectly. She even ordered real food at dinner, remarking that it was a waste of a date to eat a salad just to look dainty. Johnny agreed, and he relished watching her eat her shrimp nachos without reservation. It was a good sign – that’s what his friends told him – she wasn’t uncomfortable, she was having a good time. 

Such a good time, in fact, that she leaned over the table and offered him one of her nachos, mischievous little grin on her pretty face. Johnny couldn’t remember if he’d ever even eaten shrimp before (his mother was allergic to seafood or something, so they never had it in the house), but he didn’t want to ruin the good momentum of the evening, so he opened his mouth and let her feed him. 

All he really remembered after that was that shrimp tasted funny, and then he was warm and kind of itchy. He remembered, vaguely, the way one remembered a dream, the girl whose name he was already forgetting leaning over him with worry creasing her wrinkleless brow, her hair falling toward his face – he was on the ground. How did he get here? 

And then there was nothing. 

He woke in a hospital bed, the incessant beeping nudging him awake like an annoying alarm clock. He still felt warm, and a bit itchy. He groaned and opened his eyes, closing them immediately after, when a streetlight leaked through a tiny, jail-cell-like window to his right. 

“Hello there, Mr. Lawrence,” a soft, feminine voice said. He turned his head to the left and tried opening his eyes again. Beside him was a pretty brunette in blue scrubs, holding a clipboard. “How are you feeling?” 

“Itchy,” he rasped, feeling rather like he’d been punched in the throat. “What’s going on?” 

“Your friend just stepped out to make a phone call,” the nurse, whose name tag said Amanda, said. “She should be back in a minute.” She took out a little wooden stick and motioned for him to open his mouth. She peered into his throat for a moment before stepping away, seemingly pleased. “It seems like you had a rather severe allergic reaction. Has that ever happened to you before?” 

“I don’t have allergies,” Johnny replied. “I’m not a –” He was going to say _‘pussy,’_ but something about the stern set of Nurse Amanda’s mouth told him that was a bad choice. “I uh, I don’t have allergies.” 

“You do, Mr. Lawrence,” Amanda countered, flipping to the second page of the clipboard in front of her. “Severe enough that the doctor is going to give you a prescription for an Epi-Pen. He’s going to come in here and discuss it with you.” 

“Not necessary,” Johnny mumbled, sitting up straight and reaching for the heart monitor on his finger. “I feel fine, so I think I’m just gonna go.” 

“Mr. Lawrence, you shouldn’t –”

“It’s fine,” Johnny reassured her, trying to give her a winning smile that she didn’t return. He removed the heart monitor, the screen behind him screeching in protest. He wasn’t sure if it was fine, really. He had a bit of a headache but he figured that if he was in the hospital, he probably fell over in the bar. That explained it. Either way, he was ready to get out of here. 

He barely caught sight of the door opening before he swung his legs over the side of the bed and pushed himself to the edge, socks meeting tile. He was only upright for a second or two before his head swam and he reached back for the stability of the bed. 

He missed, and caught sight of a white coat moving toward him before his fall to the floor stopped prematurely. He let his head fall back, too weak to bother to control it, and caught sight of a pair of bright amber eyes and a rueful smile. 

Before he could process, he was being gently put back into bed, Amanda on the other side to reconnect his heart monitor. 

It beeped far faster than it had been before, fast enough that the man who had caught him looked up at the monitor with raised eyebrows. 

“Got you excited, huh?” he asked, holding his hand out for the clipboard. Amanda passed it over in the silence that followed his statement. Johnny didn’t answer. He didn’t trust himself to answer. “Daniel LaRusso,” he said, offering Johnny his hand. Johnny took it for a brief shake, but Daniel held onto it, sliding two of his fingers up to Johnny’s wrist and checking his pulse, as if the embarrassingly beeping monitor wasn’t enough proof. He grinned, and bit his lip, and Johnny had just a fraction of a second to enjoy it before it was gone. 

Johnny took the time that Daniel was looking down to survey him without getting caught. His skin was smooth, giving him the appearance of a much younger man. Johnny wanted to make a Doogie Howser joke, but forced himself not to say anything. Still, even with a young man’s face, he had an older man’s presence, radiating confidence and calm. 

His hands, around the clipboard, were tanned and strong. Healer’s hands. He swallowed thickly. 

“John Lawrence,” the Daniel said, his eyes on the chart. “Have you ever had an allergic reaction before?” 

“I’m no pussy,” Johnny muttered, and Amanda rolled her eyes, mostly hiding it by turning away to look at the heart monitor. 

The doctor let out a surprised laugh that he quickly covered. He surveyed the clipboard with Johnny’s information on it, his brown eyes leaving the paper every few seconds to dance over Johnny’s face before going back to what he was doing. 

“The woman who called the ambulance said she gave you shrimp,” he said. “You collapsed shortly after that. She said you complained that you couldn’t breathe.” 

Johnny frowned, trying to think back. “I don’t remember that.” 

“Well, we gave you a dose of epinephrine,” Daniel continued, letting the papers flop closed. “Which means you’ll be prone to some headaches, a little dizziness for a while. We are going to keep you here overnight just to make sure you’re in tip top shape before we let you go home. I’m also going to write you a prescription for an Epi-Pen, just in case this happens again.” 

“Doc, really,” Johnny said, forcing himself up on his elbows so he could sit up straighter. “I don’t need that pen thing. I don’t have allergies.” 

Daniel raised his eyebrows. “If you don’t have allergies, then explain what happened when you ate shrimp.” 

“Ooh, Doogie Howser’s got some bite,” Johnny replied, snickering when Daniel tightened his jaw and pursed his lips to keep from smiling. 

“Not as much bite as that shrimp had, apparently,” Daniel muttered, and Johnny laughed, a full belly laugh that shot pain through his head. He groaned, his hand catching the side of his head, heavy and beleaguered, and Daniel sighed sympathetically. 

“It’s fine,” Johnny reassured him. 

“I’m the doctor, Mr. Lawrence, it’s my job to say that to _you,_ ” Daniel said, turning back to his clipboard. “I suggest you get comfortable. I’ll be back at the end of my shift to check on you.” 

“So you’re coming back?” Johnny asked hopefully as he turned around to leave. Amanda, already on her way out the door, tossed an amused, knowing glance back at him that he ignored. “Is that a promise?” 

“Of course, Mr. Lawrence,” Daniel said, his eyes still on Johnny’s chart, checking it one more time. “How could anyone say no to that face?” 

It was at that marvelous moment that his date came through the door, in the act of sliding her phone into her back pocket. “Oh my god,” she exclaimed when she looked up. “Johnny, baby, what happened to your _face_!?” 

Daniel’s laughter echoed down the hall. 

***

His face, after he had hurriedly acquired a mirror, was red and splotchy and he felt rather like a teenager again, face full of acne and far too interested in a dark-haired boy when there was a pretty girl to keep him company. His date (he still couldn’t remember her name, and at this point he was afraid to ask) stuck around for another hour or so before the nurse (Amanda, that he remembered) told her that visiting hours were and had been over, and she would have to leave. 

She promised that she’d call, but Johnny knew he wouldn’t be answering. No, he was far too interested in Dr. Daniel LaRusso. 

There was something about him that drew Johnny in, made him feel like a kid again, giddy and gleeful and far too eager to tease. It didn’t hurt that he was easy on the eyes – boyish face, dark eyes and hair, easy grin. Johnny smiled to himself just thinking about it. 

He figured he’d be playing into a huge cliché if he asked out the doctor who saved his life (though whether or not his life was ever really in danger, he doubted), but at this point, Johnny was ready and willing to play into clichés. 

He tried to stay awake, to wait him out – Daniel had, after all, said he was coming back – but it was only now just the early hours of the morning, and he found his eyes drifting closed no matter how hard he tried to focus on re-runs of _Family Feud_ on the small television in the corner. 

He drifted off on the sound of canned laughter and applause, and woke to the sound of the television being turned off and a soft humming. He stayed still, his eyes closed, trying to determine if his visitor was a nurse or if his doctor had finally returned. The humming was so quiet he couldn’t be sure, and his patience inevitably got the better of him. 

He opened one eye first to check, and caught Daniel leaning against his bed, looking down at his file, biting his lip. 

“Took you long enough,” he muttered, and Daniel jumped, almost fumbling the file all the way to the floor. Johnny watched him struggle to recover himself, straightening his collar and standing just a bit taller. 

“I said I was coming back at the end of my shift,” Daniel pointed out. He glanced down at his watch. “It is the end of my shift.” 

Johnny reached out and caught his wrist, pulling the watch into his line of sight to check the time. Daniel let him do it, hand limp, eyes on Johnny. He gathered the time (7:54 in the morning) and held his wrist still longer, pushing it for as long as he could. Finally, once he held Daniel’s wrist for so long the man probably thought he couldn’t tell time, he released him.

“You promise a man a visit –”

Daniel chuckled, fiddling with the watch on his wrist absently. “And here I am. Promise kept.” 

“Mmm, I don’t know, LaRusso, I think keeping me waiting for so long nullifies the promise.” 

“You _do know_ that I have other patients, right?” Daniel asked, but his eyes were shining with withheld laughter. “It’s not just you.” 

“But I’m special,” Johnny pointed out, and Daniel raised his eyebrows at him. 

“You are the first patient I’ve ever had that tried to deny his allergic reaction, even in the face of anaphylaxis.” 

“Damn straight,” Johnny said triumphantly. “It’s called sticking to your guns, LaRusso.” 

“I’m still writing you a prescription for an EpiPen,” Daniel said sternly, and Johnny grinned at him. 

“So bossy,” he teased.

“It will literally keep you alive,” Daniel said, slipping the file back into the little box that held it between visits at Johnny’s feet. “You can’t just charm your way out of anaphylactic shock.” 

Johnny tilted his head at him, catching the way Daniel pursed his lips to keep from smiling. “So you think I’m charming?” 

“I think you’re laying it on a bit thick,” Daniel replied, but it was almost a laugh, and Johnny took it as an encouragement more than a rebuff. “You should get some sleep.” 

“I’ll get some sleep if you agree to go out with me when I get out of here,” Johnny said, settling himself deeper into the pillows to emphasize his point. “I’ll be the best patient you’ve ever had.” 

Daniel surveyed him, the sun finally reaching high enough to start streaming through the little window to the right of Johnny’s bed. The sunlight almost caught his eyes, but as it was, the bright streak landed on the sharp line of his jaw, illuminating the way Daniel was currently clenching and unclenching his jaw.

“That would be inappropriate,” Daniel said finally. 

Johnny heard the word he didn’t say. “That’s not a no.” 

“It _is_ a no,” Daniel corrected with a soft smile. “It’s just…not a vehement no.” 

“Show off with the big words,” Johnny muttered. 

Daniel looked at him like he was going to say something else, but the sound of Johnny’s door clicking open stopped him in the movement, mouth almost open. He snapped his jaw closed and fiddled with Johnny’s chart before making his escape, one look tossed to Johnny over his shoulder. 

His nurse, Amanda, was back, her hair pulled back in a bun now, her eyes far more tired than they had been when he first saw her. She noted all kinds of things on her own little clipboard, her eyes focused and no-nonsense. 

“You know, it’s a violation of ethical standards to date a patient,” Amanda said quietly, her eyes on Johnny’s heart monitor, so determined in their intensity that Johnny, for a moment, didn’t realize she was talking to him. “That’s what he means.” 

“So…” Johnny began, hoping she’d finish the sentence for him. He felt rather hopeful, but he wasn’t sure if that was a smart emotion to be feeling. 

“So ask him out tomorrow after you’re discharged,” she said, like that should have been obvious. “I think you’ll find the answer will be different.” She gave him a cool, appraising look. “You are a nice guy, aren’t you?” 

“Of course I am,” Johnny replied, a tad affronted. 

She raised an eyebrow. “Good, because Daniel has bad luck, romantically. So if you ask him out and act like a dick, well, let’s just say your chart has a lot of revealing information on it. Like where to send you a shrimp platter.” 

He laughed, hard enough that his chest ached, reminding him that he had, in fact, been put in the hospital for a reason. “If he goes out with me, I will be an angel. You have my word.” 

She tutted at him disbelievingly, but he could see the smile when she turned away. “Go back to sleep, Mr. Lawrence.” 

***

He didn’t see Daniel the next afternoon, when he was discharged. All of the paperwork had been completed before his attentive doctor left for the day, waiting for the next attending physician to sign and put into the system. So Johnny found himself in last night’s clothes, with an almost dead cell phone, and at a loss. 

He figured he could ask for Daniel’s phone number, but Amanda wasn’t on shift anymore, and he imagined that the other nurses would be hesitant to give him a doctor’s personal information. He pursed his lips, trying to work his way around this new setback. 

“Are you Mr. Lawrence?” Another pretty nurse was calling his name. God, how many pretty nurses worked at this hospital? He nodded, and glanced at her name tag. Carmen. 

“I was told to give this to you when you were discharged,” she said, passing over a manila envelope. “It’s a referral to an allergist.” 

The hope that had ballooned in his chest sharply deflated. He supposed it was too much to ask that Amanda had decided to wing-woman him one more time and leave him Daniel’s phone number. He took it and trudged away, realizing halfway down the hall that his car was still at the bar, since he’d been sent there by ambulance. 

He didn’t open the envelope until he was back home, his phone on a charger, his car parked in his driveway. It had taken him longer than he’d like to admit to call a cab, and even longer to get his car and get home. It all felt unnecessary, details he didn’t want to focus on when he could be using his brain power to focus on tracking down Daniel somehow. 

But he didn’t know how to use social media, and he certainly wasn’t going to start stalking the man. He promised Amanda he’d be good. It was that thought that reminded him that he had a prescription to fill. With a groan, he pulled himself off the couch and took up the envelope in his hands again. 

He tore it open unceremoniously, trying to avoid tearing the paper inside. It was, in fact, a referral to an allergist, someone named Dr. Tom Cole. God, even that name sounded annoying. He rolled his eyes and flipped to the next page. Stapled to the back was a prescription for an Epi-Pen, the words almost unreadable. 

Typical doctor handwriting, he thought ruefully. 

He discarded the envelope on the floor and considered the prescription. Did he really want to go get a damn Epi-Pen after all? It seemed like a waste when he could just…not eat shrimp. 

Well, if he wasn’t going to get to ask Daniel out, then he didn’t have to keep his promise and be good. That meant he didn’t have to get a damn pen thing. He left the paperwork on his kitchen counter and bent down for the envelope. As he scooped it up, and orange sticky note fluttered out of it and landed face down on the carpet. 

He scooped it up and read it once, twice, and then one more time. 

On it, in the same chicken scratch handwriting, was a phone number, and the words “try again.” 

***

Daniel had pretty much convinced himself Johnny wasn’t calling. Patients almost always had some sort of weird crush on the doctor they decided they owed a life debt to – getting hit on at his job wasn’t exactly new. But Johnny had been fun, and Daniel had enjoyed talking with him more than any of the other patients who offered up their time and attention as some sort of gratitude payment. 

Oh well, he thought, and got up late in the afternoon to make himself a coffee. 

He was used to doing things at weird times, since his shifts were almost always overnights. He was always drinking his first coffee of the day in the afternoon, eating breakfast late at night, dinner at 4 p.m. 

He’d gotten only a few sips into his coffee when his phone rang. 

He scrambled for it, almost knocking it clean off the counter, trying to resign himself to disappointment. 

“Hello?” he said cautiously. 

“Your handwriting is awful,” he recognized Johnny’s voice immediately. “Do you know how many wrong numbers I’ve called?” 

Daniel covered his mouth to hide his relieved laughter. “Have you considered that you just can’t read?” 

“Didn’t your elementary school teachers teach you penmanship?” 

Daniel took another sip of his coffee, suddenly brightened. “I must have forgotten it during medical school.” 

“Brag,” Johnny retorted. He paused, and Daniel could hear him taking a deep breath. “I heard that I should ask you out again.”

“Who told you that?” Daniel asked, trying and failing at suppressing a smile. 

“I can hear you smiling into the phone,” Johnny replied. “But if you must know, it was Amanda.” 

_“Amanda?”_

“Oh, did you think your poorly scribbled note was the only clue I got? Sorry, Doc, but I couldn’t even read that shit. I had to put it into Google Translate.” 

“You’re such an asshole,” Daniel grumbled, but he was still smiling. 

“So I’m going to take you out, Doogie Howser,” Johnny continued, unabated. “When are you not saving lives?” 

Daniel paused. Here was where most romantic possibilities came to an end. Men and women alike didn’t really like a doctor who worked nights, or even who worked odd hours. It wasn’t something they usually looked for, especially when they were dating. Not being able to go to dinner was kind of a deal breaker with people you just met. 

“Well,” Daniel hesitated, pushing his coffee away, “I actually work most nights, so…” 

He paused, waiting for Johnny to make his excuses. 

“Okay,” Johnny said gamely. “Can I take you out to breakfast then, after your shift? Dinner for you, breakfast for me.” 

“Did you get that Epi-Pen?” Daniel asked.

Johnny, on the other end of the phone, went quiet. 

“ _Dammit,_ John –”

“I’ll get it, I’ll get it,” Johnny replied hastily. “I’ll go get the damn thing right now.” 

“You’re gonna show it to me, on this date,” Daniel said firmly. “I need the physical proof.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll show it to you, Doc –”

“The Epi-Pen?” 

“Hmm? Oh yes, yeah, of course,” Johnny’s voice was full of laughter, giddy and childlike and reminding Daniel far too much of grade school, when he had boundless energy and a zest for life that working and aging had sucked out of him. “Tomorrow?” 

“Tomorrow,” Daniel promised. “Text me where and when to meet you.” 

***

Daniel, a self-diagnosed control freak, was forced to abandon all forms of control for his first date with Johnny. He had to meet him at the diner Johnny picked in his scrubs and comfortable shoes, aware that his hair was probably a disaster from running his hands through it throughout the night. It was the complete opposite of putting his best foot forward, in his opinion, and that left him feeling far more nervous than he thought was fair for a first date. 

Johnny, on the other hand, was basking in the early morning sunshine in a Guns N Roses shirt and faded jeans that somehow looked both put together and haphazardly chosen, a cup of coffee in his hand, blue eyes bright, when he showed up. 

When his laser blue eyes landed on Daniel, just barely coming through the door, Johnny reached into his pocket and dropped a clear and yellow package on the table. 

The Epi-Pen. 

Daniel laughed, the sound drawing out a smile on Johnny’s face, and felt some of the nervousness drain away. 

“Glad to see you decided to listen to your doctor,” he said, sliding into the booth. 

Johnny gave him an appraising look. “Well, he’s hot, so.” 

“So you only listen to your doctor if they’re hot?” Daniel asked, narrowing his eyes. 

Johnny stared at him unapologetically. “Yeah.” 

“I guess I should have changed, then,” Daniel replied. “You’d be more likely to listen to me.” 

Johnny’s eyes roved hungrily over Daniel’s face, down to the v-neck of his scrub top, sending a warm flush up Daniel’s chest to his neck. “Believe it or not, I have absolutely no complaints about your wardrobe.” 

Daniel couldn’t remember the last time he actually had fun on a first date. There was so much inherent uncertainty in it, so many awkward silences, too many instances of realizing that you just weren’t interested in the same things. With Johnny, it was like sitting down with someone you’d forgotten that you knew so well, you didn’t have to worry about running out of things to talk about. 

It was like finding a long-lost friend, one who looked like he stumbled out of a _Men’s Health_ magazine and decided that he was going to talk to you in particular. 

They made fun of each other endlessly, jokes that held no venom but also curbed no enthusiasm, and laughed at each other, at themselves, at everything. Johnny laughed at him because he ate chocolate chip banana pancakes – Daniel laughed at him because _of course_ he was the guy to eat three different types of meats at breakfast. 

Before he was ready, the meal was over, and exhaustion was beginning to set in. It was getting to be past his bedtime. 

Still, they lingered in the parking lot in the space between their cars, Daniel’s a tasteful Volvo and Johnny’s a suped up Dodge sports car with a racing stripe, reluctant to leave. 

“When can I see you again?” Johnny asked, leaning against the door of his car, the keys between his fingers. 

Anxiety tamped down on Daniel again. “My schedule is…odd –”

“I know that,” Johnny shrugged, pushing off of his car to step into Daniel’s space, blinking past the sunlight. “I have no problem eating meals at weird hours, or sitting in a movie theatre in the middle of the morning. Just give me a time, I’ll be there.” 

“Oh,” Daniel murmured. Johnny grinned at him, his eyes impossibly fond. 

“I bought an Epi-Pen for you, moron,” he said, threading one arm around Daniel’s waist and pulling him closer effortlessly. “Do you know how expensive those are?” 

“They really shouldn’t be,” Daniel muttered. “They don’t cost that much to make, pharmaceutical companies are just money-grubbing –”

He had a whole monologue about the morally empty medical system ready, but Johnny, probably foreseeing that he wouldn’t get Daniel to stop talking if he didn’t act soon, silenced him with a kiss, soft and firm and demanding all at once, and the words died in his throat, the thoughts scattered. 

He let Johnny pull him closer, his hand sliding up his arm to his neck and into his hair, humming his appreciation. He was like a wall of muscle, one of those men Daniel always saw in the aisles of supermarkets with Oakley sunglasses somehow hanging off the back of their necks, ruddy with sunburn, faces in a perpetual smirk. 

Still, the hardness of his muscles was rivaled by the softness of his hands, the tenderness of his kiss, the careful way he held Daniel like he was precious cargo.

He pulled back to breathe, careful not to dislodge himself from Johnny’s embrace. The blond man let him, hand falling from Daniel’s hair to settle on the side of his face, eyes soft and amused. 

“Does this mean you won’t make me buy an Epi-Pen every time we go on a date?” he asked, grinning in anticipation of Daniel’s laughter.


End file.
